


The Painter With Wings

by fabulousfanficfairy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Normal Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 16:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20854718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulousfanficfairy/pseuds/fabulousfanficfairy
Summary: Castiel is a painter that lives in a small studio apartment. Dean works on a construction site down the street. They meet and start falling in love. All is great in their normal human lives- until they find out what their brothers have been doing to push them together in this alternate universe.





	The Painter With Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic in April of 2018, and had a lot of fun writing it. And then life got crazy and I completely forgot about it. I picked it back up last night and got back into the swing of things. I hope you guys like it!

Demolition Lovers by MCR filled the small studio apartment. It was just past 12:30, so Cas knew the loud music probably wasn’t bothering anyone. Well, maybe his neighbor who often spent his lunch hour at home with some girl his wife didn’t know about, but somehow the song felt fitting for them.  
A large tarp covered pretty much the entire floor of Cas’ bedroom. An easel occupied the space by the window, and art supplies were strewn all over the rest of the floor. The only indication that this was a bedroom was the bed pushed into a corner, which you had to jump over to get into the closet. Paint brushes, cans, and tubes covered all of the desk space, and sketches covered the walls.  
There were at least half a dozen paintings leaning against one wall, all in different stages of completion. Most of them were still wet, and only a few of them still had white space showing.  
The painting on the easel was pretty much done, and Cas was just putting on the finishing touches. Everyday, a man came to the park across the street from Cas’ apartment building, and ate lunch on the same bench. He wore worker’s jeans and an old T-shirt, yet there was something about him that caught Cas’ attention. Something about the way his hair caught the light, or the contemplating look in his eyes as he stared into the trees. The first time Cas saw him, he knew he had to paint him.  
It felt a little creepy, at first, to paint the stranger as he watched him everyday. Almost stalkerish. However, that feeling was swept away when Cas saw how the sunlight caught the man’s cheekbones, or the way his green eyes sparkled like the park’s fountain. It was then that Cas remembered that his job as an artist was to capture the beautiful things in the world, and this man definitely qualified.  
At first, Cas was going to paint the man as faceless, since he hadn’t asked permission to paint him. But in the end, he decided to paint him with as much accuracy as possible. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to capture all of the man’s beauty. This, of course, meant that Cas would eventually have to get the guy’s permission if he wanted to sell the piece. At the time, Cas didn’t really know if he’d even finish the painting-not with all of the other work that he had to do. But something about the painting held his attention better than any of his more pressing projects.  
By the time Cas finished the painting, the man had left to go back to work. He set the painting aside to dry, before changing his music to something more docile to paint his next piece to. Although his eyes were focused on the tall, bright, fall trees that popped up on the canvas, Cas’ mind was occupied with the man from the park. Cas’ thoughts tumbled around like dead leaves in the wind, like the leaves he was trying to paint. It wasn’t until he’d set the tree painting aside to dry that he finally knew what he should do with the painting of the stranger.

The next day, at half past eleven, Cas scribbled a few words on a sheet of paper, and shoved that into an envelope. He carefully printed THE MAN IN THE PARK on the back of the envelope, and taped it to the back of the canvas.  
He was halfway across the street when he wondered if this was actually a good idea.  
He was three steps away from the bench when he started to turn around, but then decided to do what he had decided to do the day before.  
He was waiting at the crosswalk waiting for the light to turn when the stranger came down the sidewalk in his direction.  
He was staring straight ahead when the stranger turned and slowly walked into the park.  
Cas bolted across the street just as the light turned, and took the stairs to his apartment two at a time. He got to his window just as the stranger walked into the fountain area of the park, where his usual bench was. Where Cas had left the painting propped up.  
The stranger stopped when he saw it, and looked around almost frantically. He then slowly approached the bench, and picked up the canvas. The man stared at the painting for several moments, admiring the artistry, before turning the canvas over to find the envelope. He opened it, and read quickly the words Cas had written just minutes before.  
Dear Sir,  
I know it’s probably weird for you to find a painting of yourself on the park bench where you eat lunch everyday. I promise, I’m not a stalker or anything. I simply noticed you as I was staring out my window into the park, and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. I am a painter; it’s my life’s work to paint beautiful things. Anyway, I knew I couldn’t sell this without your consent. So, I’m giving it to you instead. Enjoy,  
The Angel.  
Post-Script: I usually title my paintings after the person they’re modeled after, but I don’t know your name so it is simply called Man in the Park.   
Cas grimaced as he remembered how he signed it, because it might lead the stranger to him. He’d used his artist nickname, that his buddies in college had given him. It had stuck, and Cas had started signing all of his paintings with Angel wings, in the lower right hand corner. Even the painting of the stranger had his mark.  
The man whipped around, searching. His eyes fell on Cas’ apartment complex, but there was no way that he could see Cas, ten stories up, since the sun was right in his eyes. Or at least, so Cas hoped. After several moments, the man sat down on the bench and slowly ate his lunch. Cas turned back to work on one of his projects, and the next time he looked out the window, the man was gone. He’d taken the painting with him, but Cas noticed that he’d left the envelope on the park bench. Cas looked around the street below to make sure the man had actually left, then hurried across the street.  
It was the same envelope that Cas had attached to the back of the painting, but the words THE MAN IN THE PARK had been scratched out. Above the scribbles, THE ANGEL HIDING CREEPILY was written. Cas could feel the blood drain out of his face, as he wondered if the man really thought he was that creepy. Or maybe he was joking. Cas couldn’t be sure.  
Cas opened the envelope with shaking fingers, and found a new note inside. It was scribbled on part of a brown lunch sack in ink from a clearly dying pen.   
Angel,  
I’m flattered, really. But a little freaked out. Watching someone eat lunch every day without saying hello is pretty creepy. Most folks would call the cops.  
Lucky for you, I’m not most folks. I like the painting, I do. In fact, I love it. I’m not much of an art connoisseur, but I can recognize good art when I see it. So, thank you. I already know exactly where I’m going to hang it up.  
Listen, I think that if you’re going to keep watching admiring me from afar, I should at least get to know your name. Something more than The Angel?  
The Man in The Park   
P.S. But you can call me Dean  
Dean. So that was the man’s name.   
Cas smiled gleefully, relieved that the man wasn’t too freaked out. That Dean wasn’t too freaked out. He practically skipped back to his apartment, except he didn't because he didn’t like skipping. But he almost did.   
He taped the note up on the wall, next to several sketches that he’d done of Dean before painting him.

The next day, Cas left a note for Dean on the same park bench, as a response to the one that Dean had left him.  
Dean,  
I’m glad that you like the painting, and that you aren't going to call the cops. That would be awkward if you did. I’d apologize for being creepy and watching you, but I watch everything that goes on around my building. You aren’t the first part of this block that I’ve painted, but probably my favorite.   
(The Angel) Cas.  
Dean showed up at the same time he always did, read the note, and ate his lunch. Cas had decided that he probably shouldn’t pay him so much attention, so he left his apartment to go get coffee from Hell’s Gate down the street.  
“Ah, Cas, haven’t seen you in a while! Your usual?” Ruby smiled, perhaps too broadly, from behind the counter.  
“Yeah, my usual.” Cas slid into a chair near the window, and let his gaze drift toward the park.  
“You waiting for someone?”  
“What? Oh, no. Just, thinking.”  
“Hm.” Ruby slid a cup of steaming black coffee toward Cas. “Whatever you say.”  
Cas left the cafe several minutes later, trying to convince himself that he left only because he was finished with his coffee, and not because he’d seen Dean leave the park just moments earlier.  
Once again, there was an envelope waiting for Cas on the park bench. Cas practically tore it open.  
Cas,  
Is that short for anything? Or is it just Cas?  
I showed the painting to my brother, Sam. He wanted me to ask you if you’d do a piece for his office? He’d pay you, obviously. He said he’d tell you the details if you took the job. But he wants to meet you in person, maybe see some of you other paintings.   
Well, it got me thinking: Maybe I want to meet this Angel Cas in person too. Have a drink together?   
So, what do you say? Ready to come out of hiding, Angel?  
Dean.  
Cas sat down on the park bench, and re-read the note. Was this guy asking him out on a date? Or was he just trying to get Cas to show his face?  
When Cas finally got back to his apartment, he sat down at the edge of his bed, with the note still in his hands.   
‘I never thought it would go this far. Giving him the painting was one thing, but meeting him in person?’  
After several minutes of thinking, Cas went over to his easel to start painting. He had several commissions that he needed to work on, but the note kept nagging at the back of his mind. Every time he added another stroke to the canvas, he had to force himself not to start painting Dean again. After several hours of working, Cas set aside his brushes only to realize that he had painted Dean. The man was there, in the golds streaming between the trees, and the greens poking up from the ground.   
Cas went to sleep that night with his mind swirling around the stranger in the park.

The next day, Cas couldn’t bring himself to take a note across the street to the park. He didn’t know how to respond to Dean. Of course he wanted to meet in person.   
But Cas was afraid. He was far more comfortable watching from afar, without saying a word. He’d already said too much by giving Dean the painting.  
Cas watched as Dean came into the park, looked around the bench for several minutes, then finally sat down to eat his lunch. His eyes kept darting around, searching but not finding. Finally, he left and headed away from Cas’ watchful eye.  
Cas tried to focus on his work, but it was incredibly hard to focus. Eventually he gave up and decided to go for a walk around the block. As he passed Hell’s Gate, he almost ran into Ruby, who was leaving the cafe.   
“Whoa, Cas, watch where you’re going.” Ruby smiled, stepping out of Cas’ way.  
“Sorry.” He moved to pass Ruby quickly, heading to the cross walk at the corner.  
“You know, if you’re looking for the guy from the park, he works at the construction  
sight down the street.”  
Cas stopped, and turned. “What guy?”  
“Oh, come on Cas. I’m not an idiot. And you’re not the only one who pays attention to  
everything that happens on this block. I saw you leave that note for him.”  
“Um, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. But I have to go, so bye.”  
Ruby shrugged, letting Cas pass. “Whatever you say. But I think he was looking for you earlier. He asked about you. I didn’t tell him anything. I’ll let you guys work this out on your own.”  
Cas kept walking, ignoring Ruby’s comments. Or, at least, trying to ignore them.   
Cas had to restrain himself from writing another note to Dean when he got home that evening, and from writing one the next day.  
Late in the afternoon, three days since he’d stopped answering Dean’s note, Cas got an email from an address he didn’t recognize.  
To:PainterWithWings@email.com  
From:Winchester245@email.com  
Hey Cas,  
I found your email on your painting website. Normally, I’d apologize for digging around on the internet to find you, but you almost-creepily watched me from your apartment everyday, so I’d say we’re even.  
Listen, I didn’t mean to freak you out by suggesting we meet. At the same time though, I’d still like to meet the person who thought I was pretty enough to paint me without having ever spoke to me. But I guess I won’t push you. Not even by saying that drinks will be on me.   
My brother is still interested in having you do a piece for him. I showed him your website, so you should be getting an email from him later this week.  
Dean.  
Cas read and re-read the email. It was clear from the drinks will be on me line that he was definitely asking Cas out on a date. This, of course, begged a question: was Dean assuming Cas was a girl, or had he figured out that Cas wasn’t and was okay with that? If he’d been on Cas’ website, he had probably seen the picture of him, but not necessarily. The picture was at the very bottom of the bio page of the site, so it wouldn’t be the first thing that Dean saw when he got on.   
Cas also wondered if he should be grateful that Dean was getting him more work or not. Of course he was immediately grateful, but if Dean had told his brother the story of how the painting had fallen into Dean’s hands, then there could be some problems there.  
Eventually, Cas decided to just email Dean back, and figure it all out. He hesitantly started an email draft.  
Dean,  
You’re right, we should meet face to face. How about the bar on 67th, just past-  
Cas’ train of thought was interrupted by another incoming email.  
To: PainterWithWings@email.com  
From: Sam.Winchester@email.com  
Mr. Castiel,   
My name is Sam Winchester, and I work for the Impala Law Firm. My brother, Dean, showed me the incredible picture that you did of him. I am interested in having you do a painting, as a retirement gift to my boss.   
I would love to sit down and chat with you about the details of the paintings- and the price.   
Let me know if you’re willing.  
Sam Winchester  
Impala Law, Attorney. 

Cas responded immediately to Sam’s email, after saving the draft he had started of Dean’s.

Mr. Winchester,  
I would love to accept your offer. When can you meet with me, so that I can get the painting going as soon as possible?  
Castiel.

After sending the email to Sam, Cas decided that he should finish the one he had started for Dean.  
Dean,  
You’right,   
Why don’t we meet  
There’s a bar on 67th and state. Let’s meet there?  
Thanks for showing my painting to your brother.

After several attempts to make something sound right, Cas gave up and went to sleep. 

The next day, Cas went across the street to the park at just past eleven. He brought his sketchbook, and spent several minutes sketching birds, trees, fountains, and the bench where Dean usually ate lunch. His hands were shaking, which made it impossible for any of the sketches to turn out right. Cas couldn’t decide if it was because of nervousness, or because he hadn’t eaten breakfast. He tried to look as casual as possible, just a guy drawing in a park, but that failed when Dean walked into the park.   
For one thing, Cas couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He was perfectly and undeniably beautiful. It also didn’t help that Cas had dropped his pencil, but his hand was still shaking on the page.  
Because of where Cas’ bench was positioned, Dean didn’t notice him at first. Dean sat down on his usual bench in the sun and pulled out his sandwich, and only then noticed Cas sitting across the open plaza in the shadows.  
Dean stared back at Cas for a moment, before standing up and walking over. There was a thick and awkward silence between the two, before Dean cleared his throat.  
“You know, that picture on your website really doesn’t do you justice.”  
Cas couldn’t help but laugh, and suddenly he was at ease again. Dean smiled and sat next to him, grabbing the pencil from the ground as he did so.  
“So, you’re the mysterious stalker who hides in the park bushes to paint beautiful people.”  
“Um, I, well I wasn’t technically stalking you. I don’t think. I just,” Cas blushed as he grew more and more flustered, but Dean just shrugged, flipping the pencil around in his fingers.  
“Hey, it’s alright. I like it. Kind of like a guardian angel move, you know.”   
Dean laughed as Cas blushed a little bit more. “Normally, when people bother me when I’m chilling in the park eating my lunch, I’d tell them to let me eat my goddamn sandwich.”  
“Yeah, sorry about that, I mean it was really weird of me, sorry, let me-”  
Dean interrupted Cas’ muddled apology. “Let me get to my point. Normally, I wouldn’t be okay with this whole thing. But, I guess I can make an exception. If, of course, you let me buy you a drink tonight, after I get off of work.”  
“That’d be great.”   
Dean smiled, standing up. “Well, I should get back to work. Meet me at the bar on 67th at six?”  
Cas stood as well, laughing. “Don’t you think that’s a bit early to go drinking?”  
Dean handed the pencil back to Cas. “Alright, I’ll buy you dinner. Meet me here, and I’ll take you somewhere great.”  
Cas smiled as Dean walked away, before running back to his apartment.  
That afternoon, Cas worked frantically on his paintings. Not necessarily because they needed to be done soon, but because he had so much nervous energy he wanted to get rid of. It didn’t really help, but it got another painting finished.  
At around five, Cas started tearing through his closet. He had originally thought that he knew what to wear to look good, but the whole situation made him question that. After almost forty-five minutes of debating, Cas finally settled on a white shirt, tie, and dress pants. Since that felt a little too formal, he also threw in his trench coat. It wasn’t necessarily the most fashionable of choices, but it felt right anyway.   
Cas hurried over to the park as soon as he was ready, only to realize he was ten minutes early. He sat at the edge of the park bench where Dean usually sat, and watched a group of pigeons wander around the park.   
A few minutes later, Dean came into the park. He wore simple blue jeans and a plaid shirt.   
“Ready, Angel?” He smirked, leading Cas out of the park. To Cas’ surprise, instead of turning to walk on the sideway, Dean opened the back of a cab and motioned for Cas to get in.  
“So, where’re we going?”  
Dean smiled, before swinging himself into the cab, sliding over, and patting the seat beside him. “I told you, we’re going somewhere awesome. But, that’s all you get.”  
Cas smiled his shyest smile, “Not even a hint?”  
Dean laughed, slinging his arm over the top of the seat. His fingers touched Cas’ shoulder ever so slightly.  
“Fine. Um, it’s somewhere that’s almost as pretty as you. Although I guess I don’t care about the view so much with you here. You’re my favorite sight in the whole city.”  
Cas laughed, his cheeks turning a light pink. “You know, I’ve been warned about smooth talking women, but no one ever said much to me about a smooth talking man.”  
Where Cas had turned a light pink, blush daintily brushing his skin, Dean looked like he was burning up he was blushing so hard. He stammered for a moment, but his attempts to say something sweet just turned into a laugh. Cas held onto the bubbly sound.   
Several flirt-filled minutes later, the cab stopped in the dead center of the city. Dean lost no time in hopping out, running around the cab, and opening the door for Cas.   
“What a gentleman!” Cas smirked, stepping into the warm evening air. Dean led Cas into the office building that they’d stopped by, and into an elevator.  
“Hm. An office building. Not your typical date, I guess.”  
Dean smiled at Cas. “Just wait.” He punched the button for the top floor and the elevator ascended.   
Cas expected to step out into a room full of office cubicles and desks, like the first floor had been. He was surprised to find that there was, instead, a restaurant. Full of tables wrapping around a dance floor, with a bar sitting against the side. The lights were low, which accented the windows. Well, not so much windows but walls. Except for the side with the elevators, the restaurants walls were replaced with floor to ceiling glass paneling. This allowed for a breathtaking view of the city as the sun descended.  
“Wow.”  
Dean smiled, looking at Cas. “I know.”  
They stood there for a second, taking in the view, before allowing a hostess to lead them to a table against the far window/wall.   
“This place really does have a fantastic view.”  
Dean smiled, one side of his mouth going slightly higher than the other in a mischievous grin. “I know. It has the best view in the city, well, second best, only to you.”  
Cas laughed, before smiling at Dean. “All right, master flirt. Tell me about yourself. I want to know more than just your best pickup lines.  
Dean laughed, and the two spent much of the rest of the evening chatting amiably. It wasn’t until after they’d finished their meals that Dean pulled Cas up from his seat.   
“What?” Cas’ question turned into a smile as Dean led him over to the dance floor. “You know, I don’t think I can dance.”  
“Neither can I,” Dean smiled, “but I don’t think anyone else here can either.  
Cas looked around and noticed that all the other couples there didn’t really seem to be dancing to the soft music. It was more of an awkward hold each other and sway kind of thing, which looked easy enough.  
Easy enough, that is, until you find yourself in the arms of the most attractive man you know and you forget how to move your feet.  
Dean gently led Cas to a spot near the middle of the dance floor, positioning his hands on Cas’ shoulder and waist. It was awkward at first, as the two tried to figure out how to step along to the slow beat of the music, while still holding a conversation. After a few stumbles they mostly figured it out.  
They danced in a small, swaying box step for close to an hour, getting to know each other better. Their conversation wove from topic to topic, interrupted by laughter as Cas or Dean would spin the other.   
Finally, Cas and Dean gathered their coats and left, exhausted, to find a taxi.  
“Thank you, for a fun time.” Cas smiled, stepping out of the building. He held the door as Dean followed.   
“No, thank you.”   
Cas laughed. “Always the charmer, huh?”  
Dean just shrugged, and opened the door of a taxi for Cas.   
“So, maybe we should do this again sometime?”  
Dean smiled, “I’d like that. I heard that there’s an art festival coming up, we could go to that. I think it’s this saturday.”  
They made plans to meet at the park again in a few days, and they’d walk the blocks to the art festival. They exchanged phone numbers, and before Cas knew it, the taxi pulled up to the curb by the park. Dean slid out of the taxi, holding the door for Cas.  
“Well, this is me.” Cas smiled, and before he could stop himself, kissed Dean on the cheek then ran across the street to his apartment building. When he looked down to the street from his room, several minutes later, he could see Dean whistling to himself as he walked away from the park.

The next day, Cas woke up to his phone buzzing with an email.  
To: PainterWithWings@email.com  
From: Sam.Winchester@email.com   
Castiel,  
Unfortunately, something has come up and I have to leave town today. I’ll be back in two weeks, so there isn’t really a good time to meet with you face to face about the painting.  
However, I am still interested in having you do one. Attached are several photos of the view from the office that my boss has worked from for over twenty years. This is to be the subject of the painting. I want one that is about 36 inches long, and about that tall. I’ll pay whatever you usually charge. If you need to see the view for yourself, let me know and I can get you in contact with the receptionist. She’ll be able to get you into the office when our boss isn’t there.  
Thanks again.  
Sam

Cas smiled, clicking open the pictures. They were taken from a tall building, probably close to the city center. The one taken at sunset was the best one, as it had beautiful lighting. Cas decided he’d primarily use that one. He had a few other commissions he needed to finish up, but he decided to start sketching this one right away.  
A few hours later, Cas finally pulled himself away from his work and decided to take a break. He’d done what he could with the sketch without having been to the location yet, and had spent a while working on another commission. He decided to get some coffee, and maybe a lap around the block to stretch.  
“Hey Cas.” Ruby smiled from behind the counter at Hell’s Gate. “Coffee?”  
Cas nodded, and slid into a chair near the windows.  
“If you’re going to keep dating him you have to stop stalking him.” Cas jumped at the sound of Ruby’s voice, and finally noticed that she was now standing next to him.  
“How did you..”  
Ruby just smirked. “I know everything.” She blinked, and the weird lighting in the cafe made her eyes look like they were all black, for just a moment.  
“Well, enjoy your coffee.” She sauntered off to the back room, leaving Cas alone.  
After his coffee, Cas stood and left Hell’s Gate. He wandered over to the park, knowing that since it was well past noon, Dean would be over at the construction site. Or so he thought. When he stepped into the park, he saw the green-eyed man lounging on the bench behind the fountain. Cas briefly considered turning around and hoping he wasn’t seen, but shook his head. That’s stupid. I’m not afraid of him.   
Today, instead of his usual t-shirt and flannel tied around his waist, Dean was wearing a loose tank top. He smiled when he noticed Cas heading towards him, and scooted over to make room on the park bench.  
“Hey.”  
“Hey yourself.” Dean’s smile was infectious, and Cas found himself smiling too.  
“Don’t you usually work in the afternoons?”  
Dean shrugged. “Well, stalker, I had to throw you off your game a little bit.”  
This made Cas’ smile fall, and he was suddenly flustered. “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be stalkery- I ..”  
Dean waved his hand to cut Cas off. “Didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers. I was kidding. Anyway, they’re switching around crews so I got a day off. Thought I’d hang out here and see if you’d notice.”  
Blushing, Cas ran his hand through his disheveled hair and looked down. This guy was such a blatant flirt he couldn’t even look him in the eyes.  
“Hey.” Dean grabbed Cas’ chin and forced his gaze upwards. “I didn’t mean to make you all nervous. I just wanted to talk to you. You know, hear more about you. Tell you more about me.”  
Cas swallowed hard and nodded. He was about to speak when his gaze fell on a large hand shaped scar on Dean’s arm. “I don’t mean to pry, but tell me about that.”  
Dean followed Cas’ gaze, and smiled mischievously. “Birthmark.”  
“What? No. It looks too much like a hand to be a birthmark!”  
Dean shrugged. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember and I don’t know where I got it. So, I say it’s a birthmark.”  
Cas laughed, and scooted slightly closer to Dean. “Sure, like I believe that!”  
“It’s true!” Eyes wide, Dean threw his hands in the air in protest. “Are you calling me a liar?”  
“Hm. I think so!” Cas chuckled, and leaned comfortably against the armrest of the bench.  
“Well, would a liar do this?” Gently, Dean leaned forward and kissed Cas for the tiniest second. When he pulled back, Cas pushed himself forward to kiss Dean back.  
Dean’s arm wrapped around Cas and grabbed the back of his shirt. Right where his hand fell, Cas felt a pleasant warmth between his shoulder blades. Cas mirrored Dean, pulling him closer. Both of his arms were wrapped around Dean, holding him close. His insides were filled with light, and he felt like he were floating. No, flying. For the brieffest second, it felt like he could sprout wings from where Dean was holding onto him and fly away with the man in his arms.  
The bench, the park, the whole world ceased to exist. It was just the two of them, going on and on forever.  
Cas cradled Dean against him, and flapped his wings against the air. The city was far below them, but they were safe. Dean pulled slightly away, a dreamy look in his eyes. And then he blinked, and almost fell out of Cas’ grasp.  
And Cas blinked, and almost fell to the earth.  
“Cas, what just happened?”  
Cas shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t do it.”   
Cas flapped his wings, slowly bringing them back down to earth.  
“Seriously, Cas, what happened?” Dean looked worried now, all traces of dreaminess lost from his face.  
“All I know is that you kissed me and I sprouted wings. And, I don’t know.”  
“How can you not know? I didn’t make you sprout wings and turn back into an angel just by kissing you! Oh my god, I kissed you.”  
Cas frowned, feeling hurt. “So.”  
“I think I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. But I’m not sure. It felt way better than killing demons, I’ll give you that much.”  
“That doesn’t answer the question-”  
“I know. What the hell just happened.” Dean shook his head, and paced around the angel. His angel. “I have no idea. One second I’m a construction worker kissing an artist- what the hell by the way. You? An artist? That makes no sense.”  
“Stick to the point.”  
“Right, one second I’m kissing an artist I’m super into, in my very mundane human life, and then BAM you have wings and I remember that I’m a hunter. What the hell happened?”  
Before Cas could say I don't know another time, another angel appeared beside them. Gabriel.   
“I believe, what just happened is that I lost a bet. To God. And to Sam, but mostly to God.”  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
Gabriel sighed. “I made a bet with God that you two would never, ever, ever get together. He laughed. And put you two in a different reality. A reality in which Castiel was very much human, and Dean didn’t hate everything quite so much. But, your beings and essence stayed entirely the same, so I guess it could have happened in any reality. But it certainly was fun, watching you two run around and fall for each other. And Dean! You make a very good average Joe!”  
Dean’s hands curled into fists, but before he could do anything, Cas beat him to the punch. Literally.  
“CAS! What was that for?” Gabe rubbed his jaw gently,looking betrayed.  
“Don’t you ever screw with the Winchesters again. Ever. Do you understand? Ever.”  
“Aw Cas, such a party pooper.” With a flap of his wings, Gabriel disappeared.  
“Wow, Cas, that was kind of, wow?”  
Cas smiled his tight-lipped smile. “I don’t care what point they were trying to prove. They don’t screw with you or your life. Not on my watch.”  
Dean laughed. “But, maybe they were right. If we could, you know, do that in a different reality, maybe we could here. You aren’t half-bad.”  
Cas took Dean’s hand, and pulled him closer to him. Surprised, Dean almost pulled away, then only held onto Cas tighter. But that probably had something to do with the fact that they had left the ground and were speeding upwards. Or maybe it was something else.


End file.
